


Making Up For Lost Time

by moonlitfog



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Christmas, Crack, Explicit Sexual Content, Fingering, First Time, Language, M/M, Masturbation, Prompt Fic, Slash, Space Wrapped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-06
Updated: 2012-05-06
Packaged: 2017-11-04 22:17:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/398797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonlitfog/pseuds/moonlitfog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim thinks Bones doesn't care, but Bones surprises sad!Jim with the best Christmas present he never expected.<br/>Prompt fill for 2011 Space Wrapped (LJ community).  The prompt was: First time, where Jim is disappointed Leonard didn’t get him a gift for the crew’s big exchange thing, because wow, he doesn’t count on anything from anyone but he thought they were sort of really best friends and ffs he is NOT going to be a child about this… and then in the middle of the night Leonard wakes him up with a very slow, very thorough fingering and blowjob, which, unexpected, and also really pretty awesome.<br/>Yet another beta fail.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Making Up For Lost Time

James T. Kirk, Captain of the USS Enterprise, looked around the observation deck of his baby with obvious pride. The place was decked out in holiday finery from around the universe. There was something from the home world of every crew member currently serving on board. It hadn’t been easy, but they'd managed it.

After a vote, it had been decided that, since it fell right in the middle of the major celebrations, the crew would have a group celebration on Dec. 24, and anyone so inclined could spend the 25th in their own, private celebrations.

This year he had arranged for the ship to have ‘unscheduled emergency maintenance’ in orbit around an uninhabitable planet. He planned out rosters to ensure the lightest staffing possible, with a limit of four hour shifts for each person on only one of the two days. He wanted this to be a celebration everyone could enjoy for the maximum amount of time in whatever way they so chose. They might not be able to be home for their holidays, but they could still make the most of their celebrations with their shipboard family.

An astonishing number of the crew was over-the-top excited about the prospect. The remainder were succumbing to the rest of the crew’s enthusiasm. Jim watched the victuals being laid out, the tables groaning with food and more waiting in the kitchens. Well stocked bars were placed strategically about. That was another obstacle that had been conquered with careful manipulation.

It had taken months to requisition the extra supplies for the party, with items scattered throughout other, routine requisitions in order to disguise them. The one time a supply order had been questioned (the one with the Denobian frenaks and the pine cones) the morale officer had pointed out that aromatherapy was a valid stress reliever and besides, Starfleet HQ didn’t want a repeat of the game of ‘Capture the (Klingon) Flag(ship)’ did they?

Only one mention of the fact that, on any ship, boredom was a problem, but on the Enterprise it could be the start of a Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad episode for HQ to explain away was needed. On the Enterprise, boredom meant episodes of ‘Pin the (very pointy) Tail on the (very unhappy) Morale Officer’ and ‘Sell Your Shipmates for Fun and Profit’. Scotty had not been happy to have his little escort service shut down, no matter how willing all the ‘entrepreneurs’ had been.

For some reason, after a brief mention of ‘bored Enterprise crew’, HQ had approved any and all supply requests. It was a good thing. After all, a happy crew was an effective, efficient crew. Jim had made a goal and he was damned well going to achieve it: for this seasonal celebration, the Enterprise was going to be happier than Disney-fucking-world™.

Jim sighed in contentment. Presents were appearing under and around the huge bluish-silvery tree shimmering in the corner (and hadn’t that been fun transporting it straight onto the observation deck where it tipped and almost crushed Ensign Torvid and how would he have explained that to HQ? “Oh, by the way, a crew-being was crushed under a giant, seasonal celebratory holiday tree. Have a nice day!”)

There were presents and more presents were appearing all the time. It made his heart sing. He’d not had presents at Christmas during most of his adolescence, what with his mother off-world most of the time, and Frank being Frank. In fact, the holidays hadn’t been good times at all at his house. They had been the antithesis of fun. They were, in fact, the Dark Days of Fuck-You-Jimmy-My-Boy.

Well, this was a new chapter in all their lives, and it was going to be different now. He was going to make sure everyone got something, even Ensign Waldrop, the anonymous guy in housekeeping who cleaned the recyclers in the middle of gamma shift. Everyone deserved to be remembered by someone and everyone was getting something from ‘Santa’ this year. He’d spent time and thought on each person, finding something he thought each would like or could use.

It made him giddy, thinking of the entire crew united in a spirit of fun, family and giving. He wanted so much for everyone to feel that they were part of a giant family, that they belonged and were valued. He wanted his crew to know they were loved.

He didn’t even care if he was given the same treatment in return. The giving would be enough. Receiving would just be an unexpected, though totally awesome, bonus. He had to admit, though, there were a few special people he would like to remember him. He would like to know he mattered as much to some people as they mattered to him.

Jim looked around and sighed, a quiet, contemplative smile curving gently as he surveyed the almost finished preparations. Another few hours and the crew would be reaping the rewards of all the efforts. He wandered up to the bridge to take his shift. In the spirit of the season, he was taking an eight hour shift instead of the four he had arranged for the rest of the crew. It was one more small thing he could do for his people.

After his shift, Jim went to the observation deck to witness the festivities. It was a day-long celebration in order to allow people who worked all the shifts to attend. The observation deck was packed. People mingled, with new friendships being made and old friendships being reaffirmed. The laughter was contagious and smiles turned into grins when presents were handed around.

Jim curled up off to the side to watch his crew opening gifts. He grinned at the high fives exchanged by Sulu and Chekov when they got matching fencing masks, laughed outright at Scotty’s jig over the huge bottle of Glenlivet, and if anybody noticed his eyes were a little shinier than normal when Spock and Uhura touched fingertips after opening a handmade quilt, well, nobody mentioned it. Bones even looked a little misty-eyed over the framed holo slide show Jim'd had made of pictures taken from Jo's last visit.

Jim slowly opened his gifts, spending as much time watching his crew as he could without looking too creepy. He was amazed that so many people had given him things; the heads of the various departments he could understand, kissing up to the captain was par for the course. It touched him his bridge crew had all gotten together to get him a scale model of the Enterprise, and various crew he’d interacted with, even in passing, had given him things, even if it was simply a card or a note. The thing that surprised him, in amidst this amazing bounty which added up to more than he’d gotten the rest of his life in total, was that there wasn’t so much as a fare-thee-well from Bones.

He wouldn’t for the world admit it to anyone, but that hurt. He and Bones had known each other for five years. They had done everything together. They’d been there for each other through break-ups and make-ups, through stresses at school and work. They’d patched things up through misunderstandings and fights, and gloried in the good times. They were thick as thieves and he’d thought if anyone would have thought of him, it would be his best friend.

He wasn’t going to make a big deal of it. He _wasn’t_. Just being friends was enough, damn it. Friends didn’t expect each other to give them stuff, they were just grateful for the friendship itself. Besides, he had an embarrassment of riches now. He had no right to feel sad or resentful over Bones’s failure to give him something when so many others had.

He kept a smile plastered on his face, masking his disappointment with too much cheer. He thanked everyone he could find. He almost broke down, though, when he realized Bones had given seemingly everyone but him something. It didn’t mean anything, really. Bones had just been busy, or run out of time, or … something. His smile felt fragile, porcelain thin, ready to shatter at any moment.

He slipped away from the party after a good number of hours. He’d spent the day congratulating everyone and wishing them well, smiling broader and laughing louder with each bit the vise tightened down harder on his heart. He’d have left long ago if he hadn’t felt such an imperative to make the day special for everyone.

Finally, he couldn’t take it any longer. Watching Bones setting aside his Dr. Crankypants persona to joke and talk with every fucking person in the room was too much. He was sick of watching Bones work the room, charming each being he came in contact with, but not sparing a moment for him. So much for best friends. Not that he was bitter because he wasn’t. He wasn’t, damn it. He was just tired. Shit shit shit.

Jim wandered back to his quarters with a heavy heart. He had no idea how he could be so happy for everyone else, how he could be thrilled at the joy they were feeling, but hurt so much for himself. It seemed a baffling dichotomy.

He spent a while putting things away, filing the cards and notes, then stashed the vodka and scotch before setting the Enterprise model on a shelf. He stroked a finger over it, eyes misty (and no, that didn’t make him less of a manly-man, so shut up.) Eventually he didn’t have any other busy things to do to eat up his nervous energy and he flopped down on the couch morosely.

Sipping at some eggnog (with real rum!) he’d smuggled back from the party, he contemplated the ceiling, since that was less hurtful than contemplating the painful mass his heart had become. Well, he wasn’t going to be a baby about this. Just because Bones, his best friend, his rock, his shelter, his _everything_ , hadn’t had the time of day for him today didn’t mean anything.

Tomorrow he’d spend the day wandering the ship ensuring everyone was taken care of. Then he’d go back to life as normal. Except it wouldn’t be the same, would it? Not now that he knew he cared more than Bones did. Fuck, he _loved_ the man. He could understand not giving a gift, really he could. It was the way Bones hadn’t even come over to clap him on the shoulder, hadn’t done so much as throw a smile his way. That's what really hurt, damn it.

Enough. With a sigh, he rose and wandered in to make his ablutions and go to bed. It’d be better to sleep than to hang about feeling sorry for himself. On his way out of the head, he ‘accidentally’ kicked the wall. He’d forgotten he’d taken his boots off. Shit. When was he going to remember that inanimate objects were perfectly able to fight back?

Hopping around, clutching his sore toes, he wobbled and landed on his ass. He huffed. Thank all the stars he’d done that here, in the privacy of his room, and not where his dignity would have been as traumatized as his abused foot. He crawled to the bed, and aching, he stretched out to spend an hour doing relaxation exercises. Eventually he was able to force his mind to shut down and he drifted off into a deep, depressed sleep.

~O~

Len wandered about the party doing his level best to schmooze, dammit. He thought it sucked, hated it as much as he hated space and Rigellian syphilis, but he’d be damned and blasted before he gave Jim a reason to fault him on his ‘festive seasonal’ behavior to his shipmates. He was going to play nice if it killed him.

He covertly kept an eye on Jim, making sure the man was occupied and seemed to have a good time. He saw Jim’s mood degenerate during the day, saw the tightness around his eyes and the strain around his mouth as he grinned like an idiot. Damn, the man was so good at putting on a show, covering what he was really feeling with what he thought people wanted to see.

As the afternoon wore into evening, he started to feel a little guilty. He’d wanted Jim to squirm a little. Taking Jim down a peg or ten was one of his favorite occupations. He just hadn’t intended to send the kid into what appeared to be a full-blown depression. Fortunately, nobody else noticed how far Jim’s mood had sunk. Either that or they didn’t know how to read the man.

Of course, there wasn’t anyone who knew Jim like he did. He’d spent five years watching him, studying him like he was going for a degree in Jim-ology. When Jim slunk off the observation deck, he debated about chasing him down right then. But no, he’d had this planned for months, and he was going to see it through. This was going to be the Christmas (political correctness be damned, it was Christmas to him) Jim would remember for the rest of his life.

Len killed another couple of hours making sure everyone knew just how fucking festive he was before going back to his quarters. After a quick shower, shave, tooth-brushing, flossing, deodorant, cologne (just a bit or it’d be just too froo-froo) and who was he kidding with the whole ‘quick’ thing, he changed into jeans and a t-shirt. Grabbing a couple supplies, he checked the time and headed out. He should get there right on time. A slow smirk stole across his face.

~O~

He didn’t have to use an override code; Jim had given him free access to his quarters as soon as he had been assigned to the Enterprise, just as Len had done with Jim. They trusted each other implicitly and had often helped each other to their rooms when one had gotten carried away on shore leave or resorted to inebriation as a coping mechanism for some catastrophe, real or imagined.

Len slipped through as the door shushed open and stopped far enough inside to allow the door to slide closed again. After allowing his eyes to adjust to the gloom, he went around the partition to Jim’s sleeping quarters. He stood at the foot of the bed and watched Jim breathe. Jim snuffled and rolled from his side onto his back, legs slightly splayed as his left hand scratched his stomach before settling over his belly-button.

Jim always kept the lights dimmed but still on when he was sleeping. Len had asked him years ago why he couldn’t just be normal and sleep with the lights out, and he’d been told, “Bones, I just hate tripping over shit in the dark.” Len wasn’t sure that was all that was behind it, but it had turned out to be convenient on several occasions.

The night they had both celebrated passing their second year of classes, they had been so wasted they’d passed out in untidy sprawls on the floor, too drunk to fall on the beds. That night the dimmed lights had kept him from breaking his fool neck by falling over Jim on the way to the bathroom to lose everything he’d ever eaten in his entire life. He’d learned his lesson that night about mixing Canadian Mist with cola and beer. Although, on further reflection, it might have been the four Singapore Slings and the Cardassian Sunrise he’d drunk after that which tipped the scales.

The night he’d woken to an odd sound and the light had allowed him to glance over and see Jim jacking off in his bed, head thrown back and lips forming soundless words as he rocked into his hand had been an epiphany. He had vowed that night that one day he’d be the one causing that look, that sigh, that catch of breath, that warm gush. It had just taken another two years to have everything line up right.

Now was the perfect time. Len hadn’t had a romantic liaison in months, not since the last shore leave where he’d spent a lovely time with a vacationing day care worker on Athos VII. Jim had finally been able to disentangle himself from Ambassador T’h’yeed’a’s daughter and now they were both free to pursue whoever they wanted. It was mighty convenient since what he wanted was to pursue Jim. He didn’t think Jim would mind from some of the looks he’d noticed the man slanting his way during the years.

Len pondered his options as he slowly stripped. It was tempting to just go to town, waking Jim up with his half-hard cock in Len’s mouth. On the other hand, what if Jim, for some unholy reason, decided he didn’t want that? No, it would be better to wake the man up and get him on the same page before making him scream.

Len grabbed the Santa hat he’d brought along with a bottle of flavored lube. Jamming the hat on his head, he let the pompom dangle by his jaw. He reached out and slowly pulled the light blanket and sheet down Jim’s body, revealing his skin in increments. Down over the sculpted abs and across the tender belly, making Jim throw his arm off to the side in reflexive reaction, down over the hips, the top hem catching momentarily on the glans where his cock rested over his balls, then slipping free to drag slowly down the thighs. He kept inching the sheet and blanket down over parted knees, across the shins and finally lifted them over the tops of Jim’s toes. He let them drop on the floor and surveyed his newly revealed canvas.

He was eternally grateful Jim was in the habit of sleeping nude. It made everything so much easier, as well as more enticing. Len had become achingly hard just from watching the skin revealed an inch at a time. Jim had muttered when the material had crossed his thighs, but he had settled again by the time it was on the floor, so Len just took a moment to soak in the sight of Jim in all his glory.

When Len's cock twitched, he decided he’d had enough. He stalked up to Jim’s side and knelt over him, settling down so he straddled him, careful not to jar the bed too much. He eased down, skin softly meeting until he was resting on Jim’s hips, ass pressed to groin.

Leaning forward, he stroked his hand along Jim’s cheek and he ran his other hand up into Jim’s hair, the short spiky ends tickling his palm. He softly breathed “Jim” across the man’s lips before he kissed him. It was light, a mere brushing of skin on skin, but the sensation was enough to make Jim’s eyes slit open. He tensed under Len, unsure of the situation.

When he was aware enough to realize there was a person laying over him, and then realized it was Len, his eyes widened. “Bones? What the hell? Wha'd'ya think you’re doing?”

“Waking you up, dumbass.” Len glanced over at the chrono and watched it tick over to midnight. Jim had looked to see what Len was looking at and Len tilted Jim’s head back to smile down at him. Jim took in the sight of Len hovering mere inches away, Santa hat slipping over his forehead and pulling disheveled hair down, and Jim's eyebrows raised in astonishment. “Bones? Are you naked?”

“Mhmm. Merry Christmas, Jim. Want your present now?”

Jim’s eyes rounded and his mouth parted, before he swallowed reflexively. “Um. What present?”

“The one I couldn’t give you in front of anyone else,” he growled out and smirked as Jim blinked and stopped breathing for a moment. Len pressed their lips together again, pressing and withdrawing, sliding and rubbing until their lips were moist and reddened from the friction. Finally pulling back he stroked his thumb over Jim’s eyebrow, down across his cheekbone then over his lower lip.

“Well? Do you want your present? Been plannin’ on givin’ it to you for a while now.”

Jim paused, turmoil evident as he struggled to make sense of this turn of events. “Bones, I don’t… what… this…” He couldn’t order his thoughts enough to form a coherent question. Len leaned closer and sealed their mouths together again, his tongue finally joining lips in the seduction. After a moment of the tongue slipping along the seam between their mouths, Jim parted his lips and Len slipped it into the moist heat of Jim’s mouth.

He languidly explored, chasing Jim’s flavor, teasing at Jim’s tongue. Their tongues tangled and danced and Jim groaned when Len pulled back to suck on his lower lip. Finally withdrawing, he watched in satisfaction as Jim panted, struggling to recompose himself.

“You never answered me, Jim. Want your present?”

“Is it anything like that kiss you just gave me?”

Len gave Jim a slow, predatory smile. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see. If you want it, that is.” He raised his eyebrow, waiting patiently. Well, maybe not that patiently. He did subtly begin shifting his hips, making their cocks brush minutely. It should be just enough stimulation to give Jim a needy edge.

Jim's eyes closed, lips parted as he gripped Len's thighs, then rocked up a bit, increasing the pressure between them. “Yeah. Want it.”

Len grinned and kissed him quickly before lifting off of Jim. “Been waiting years for this chance. M'gonna make you feel real good, darlin'.” He pressed Jim's knees apart, spreading him enough to crawl between his legs. Leaning up, he stroked his hands down Jim's chest, kneading the flesh and grazing over the pebbled nipples.

Jim reached back and folded the pillow under his head, supporting it so he could watch avidly and grunted, “Lights, fifty percent.” His eyes widened when Len flicked at a nipple with his tongue, then blew over the moistened skin. As Len drew the nub between his lips to worry at it with tongue and teeth, Jim buried his hand in Len's hair. “Damn that feels good.” It was a breathy admission on the heels of a moan.

Len smiled around the flesh then licked a long stroke down the planes of Jim's chest. He was a hound on scent, dedicated to his mission. He nipped at the skin around Jim's navel, glorying in the indrawn breath, the quiver of Jim's muscles as he sucked in his stomach. He moved down and mouthed across the tender trail leading to his goal.

Jim moved his leg, giving Len room to move down. Lasciviously, Len stared at Jim's cock. It was well proportioned: nicely thick, not overlong, and he noted the slight leftward curve with interest. He hummed in approval. Overall, he'd prefer thickness over too much length; Jim's cock couldn't have been better if he'd made it himself. Jim wasn't an insecure man, he knew he was a good specimen physically, but the prolonged study gave him pause. “Bones? Everything all right?”

“Mmm. Oh, yeah, darlin'. Perfect.”

Reaching out, he stroked a finger from the base to tip. It was a teasing touch, more to satisfy Len's need than anything else. The velvety skin overlaying the solid core was almost enough to undo him. Jim whined and rocked up. “Bones. Stop teasing. First you torment me earlier, and now this? I hate you.”

“No you don't, and by the time I'm through with you, you're goin' to love me.”

Jim's eyes flicked to Len's and he paused to make Len focus on his words. He was done with the 'best friends forever' shit. “I already do. Have for a long time.”

“Mmm. Me too. First time we've both been free at the same time, though. Now. You gonna be good and just let me do what I want, or do I need to restrain you?”

Jim paused. “Oh, so many things I could say there. But, while you tying me up is tempting, I thought this was my present? So, shouldn't it be what I want?”

“Oh, you'll like it. Trust me, I'm a doctor. I know what I'm doing. So, I want you to just lay there and let me make you feel real good, there, sugar.”

“Well, then, get to it. 'M getting impatient here.”

Len pulled the Santa hat off and set it aside. It wouldn't do to have it getting coated in lube. He picked up the bottle and drizzled lube over his fingers, rubbing them to warm it, then slicked it over Jim's cock. Jim's nose twitched. “What is that? Is that... strawberry? The hell?”

“You ever tasted regular lube?” Len wrinkled his nose.

“No. I just let spit do its thing.”

Len rolled his eyes and pretended he didn't hear the sarcasm dripping from Jim's words. “Not for as long as I'm gonna be blowing and jacking you. I got plans for later, and you having a chafed dick ain't a part of 'em.”

Jim smirked. “Oh, really? How do you know I'm going to be here for those plans? Maybe I have plans of my own.”

“We got all night and all day tomorrow. You're gonna be too tired to want to do anything.” The grin Len gave him was pure lechery. Jim's breath hitched and his eyes dilated in lust. Len had been slowly stroking, spreading the lube, while Jim rocked gently. Len placed his hand on Jim's groin.

“Want you to hold still now, darlin'. C'n you do that for me?”

Jim grunted an assent and it was sheer willpower that kept him still and fisting the sheets when Len leaned over to take Jim straight to the root, tip hitting the back of his throat. It was at that moment that Len slipped a lube-slicked finger down Jim’s perineum to circle his hole, sliding, pressing, massaging before dipping in to retreat and circle again.

“Bones,” was grated through gritted teeth as Jim pulled his leg up and to the side to give Len more room.

Len swallowed around Jim, making the man huff out a gust of breath before tightening his stomach muscles to assert some control over the pleasure coursing through his veins. Len dragged his lips up Jim’s twitching length as he dipped his finger in to the second knuckle and swirled it before twisting and drawing it back to circle the entrance again.

“Oh god, Bones. You’re going to kill me here.”

“Mmm. You’re still coherent. That won’t do.”

He slipped the finger in again, sliding it deeper this time, and found Jim’s prostate. He didn’t stroke it directly, contenting himself with circling it, building the urge to come until Jim was tearing at the sheets in his need. When Jim’s balls were pulled tight and his cock was twitching against Len’s tongue, he pulled away, removing his finger and letting Jim’s cock fall against his stomach.

Jim keened and arched. “Oh, fuck you Bones. You bastard.” He was whimpering now, rutting his hips in a fruitless search for friction.

“Just gettin’ started, darlin’. Want you to cool down a bit before I let you come. Want you so needy I can make you come just by tellin’ you to.”

Jim swallowed and panted. “I’m getting you back for this. I’ll make you pay.”

“I’m countin’ on it, darlin’.”

“You’re evil. You’re a sadist.”

“You’re still coherent. And no-one expects the Spanish Inquisition.”

With that, Len slipped his finger back inside, stroking the warm walls, then added a finger. Jim groaned and pressed down, trying to force Len’s fingers deeper. “Oh, no, sweetness. I’m makin’ this last. I got years of wantin’ to make up for.”

“We can make up for lost time later. You could let me come and then I’d last longer,” Jim wheedled as Len scissored his fingers and stroked at an agonizing pace.

“Or I can make this so good you scream when you come, and make it up to you later too.”

A high pitched whine escaped at that, and Jim’s head tossed, sweat collecting in the dips and curves of his body. Bones gazed at him, rapt. It was worth every missed minute to see Jim like this: hair tousled, face and chest flushed, a sheen across the tensed muscles, chest heaving on suppressed groans.

“You’re so pretty, takin’ it like this, Jim, lettin’ me do what I’ve been dreamin’ about for so long.”

He slipped a third finger in, Jim’s hole fluttering against the added thickness, and he rewarded Jim with a teasing stroke over his prostate. The foot Jim didn’t have pulled up kicked against the bedding, sliding down then drawing back towards his ass. “Bones, uh, fuck, oh shit, Bones.” His hands were spasmodically gripping and loosening against the sheets and his lips were swelling from where his teeth were worrying at them.

His tongue flicked out to wet them and he gasped as Len leaned over to lick a slow, wet stripe from the base of Jim’s cock to the tip. He swirled his tongue around the glans, then fluttered it against the tender spot just under the head.

“Please, Bones. Can’t take any more.”

Len looked up, a devilish twinkle in his eyes. “Sure you can, sugar. Just a little more.”

Jim’s hips rocked as Len’s fingers pressed and rubbed at his prostate. He was getting too close, so Len pulled his fingers back to caress at the entrance, massaging the spasming muscle then slid up to press against his perineum. That was when he slid his mouth over the head of Jim’s cock and sucked, hard.

Jim wailed, a broken, cut-off sound. “Oh, god, oh, please, need to come, can’t wait, please, Bones.” The litany was moaned out, punctuated with gasps as Jim’s hands clutched at Len, the sheets, his pillow, the wall above his head, anything he could reach to ground him.

Len withdrew his fingers and leaned back, watching Jim writhe for a moment before carefully moving over him to kiss the corners of Jim’s panting mouth. Jim reached for him, trying to drag him down, but Len pressed his wrists to the bed. He leaned down and kissed Jim, long and deep, their tongues tangling.

After long moments, he drew back and nibbled along Jim’s jaw and down his neck. Jim was mumbling incoherently and arched his neck to Len’s mouth. He licked across Jim’s collarbones before creating a necklace of marks sucked along the ridges. When he though Jim had relaxed enough, he worked his way back down to Jim’s cock and drizzled more lube before tracing the thick vein with a finger.

Jim growled, “Guess I better start looking for a new CMO. You know, since I’m going to have to kill you.”

Len chuckled and slid his mouth up Jim’s cock, tongue flicking as he went and settled his mouth over the head. Looking up through his lashes, he grinned around Jim’s leaking cock. Len settled into a slow rhythmic bobbing, working Jim with his lips and tongue, dipping into the slit, sucking randomly.

Jim carded a hand through Len’s hair. He was tempted to grab hold and fuck Len’s mouth but had a feeling that he’d regret it. Either Len would stop, or he’d manage somehow to drag this out longer, and the first option didn’t appeal to him at all; the second option would make his heart explode, also not appealing. So, he settled for rubbing his fingers through Len’s hair and riding this glorious torture out to the end.

Len hummed in approval, almost undoing Jim and slipped his fingers back in, pressing and sliding in time with his mouth. He paused momentarily to look up at Jim. Jim peered down blearily and when his eyes focused, Len said, “Just so you know, Jim. Next time? Next time I’m making this last.”

When Jim groaned in dread and anticipation, Len sucked hard and massaged Jim’s prostate in a pulsing rhythm. Jim tried to shout but his voice broke and he arced as he came, thick spurts pulsing into Len’s mouth. His hands were buried in Len’s hair and his hips thrust, driving his cock deeper into Len’s throat. Len swallowed madly, taking everything Jim gave him, and then held the softening cock in his mouth as he withdrew his fingers.

Jim lay panting, muscles randomly firing in aftershocks. He finally relaxed into a boneless heap and Len released him to hover over him, hand stroking his own cock fast and hard before he striped Jim’s stomach with his release. He pressed his forehead to Jim’s shoulder as he rode out the end of his orgasm and then collapsed at Jim’s side.

He lay there, a leg thrown over Jim’s, arm over Jim’s chest, and then he nuzzled Jim’s neck. Jim rolled toward him, wrapping his arm around Len.

“Oh, god, Bones. That was amazing. I still can’t believe you tortured me all day by ignoring me, though. I meant what I said. You’re evil.”

Len snorted. “That mean you don’t want to repeat this?”

“Oh, hell, no. I want to repeat this or some variant, every day for the rest of forever.”

Len smirked. “Good. Then, maybe we better sleep. Build up some energy for the next round.”

They drifted off, and it was hours later when Len woke to the sound of Jim coming out of the head. He rolled over and looked, then threw his forearm over his eyes.

“Damn it, Jim. What? Are you twelve? Take the fucking Santa hat off your cock.”

Jim just smirked. “Merry Christmas. Time to unwrap your present, Bones.”

He dodged the pillow Len threw at him, and waggled his hat-covered cock in Len’s face, pompom swaying. Snatching the hat away, Len pulled Jim down on top of him. Kissing him soundly, he raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t you think it’s time to make good on your threat?”

“Definitely. I am a man of my word,” Jim growled before showing his Bones he could give as good as he got.

**Author's Note:**

> It should go without saying that I don't know or own or profit from these characters. I'm just amusing myself. I apologize for the comma-abuse and other grammar sins. If you see something that needs to be corrected and you feel like telling me, I'll be happy to fix it. Also, I apologize for my inability to write porn well. This was originally posted at LJ. Yes, the line about the Spanish Inquisition is straight from Monty Python, who I also do not own. I do own the entire Flying Circus series on DVD, though, so that's saying something. I'm not sure what that something is, but it still says _something_.


End file.
